


I don't like walking around this old and empty house

by DanishPotato



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Comfort, M/M, Night Terrors, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 14:57:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8990383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanishPotato/pseuds/DanishPotato
Summary: "…So hold my hand I'll walk with you, my dear."Jack has night terrors when he sleeps, but Mark is there.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while thinking of Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men. There's not much too it, but I hope you enjoy.

Jack tiptoes down the staircase, wincing at every step as they creak beneath him. At this rate, Mark will wake up and find him. Jack's bothered him too many times, with his night terrors and waking up so often. He just wishes it was easier to fall back asleep afterwards. Then maybe Mark wouldn't be woken by his clamouring every time.

Turning on the coffee machine, Jack checks the time. It's 3:03 a.m., maybe if he's quick with his drink he could be asleep by four, though he knows it's unlikely. Behind him, he hears the creak of floorboards and a familiar feeling of guilt appears.

Arms wrap around him from behind, softly pressing into his back and forearms. Then a chin rests itself on his shoulder. "Hi Mark," Jack whispers.

"Hi," Mark whispers back. His breath tickles the side of Jack's neck, and it feels nice.

The coffee machine beeps, and Mark steps back to allow Jack to make his decaffeinated drink. "You shouldn't have gotten up for me," Jack says, his voice still soft.

"You just had a nightmare, you need comforting." There's a small laugh in Mark's voice as he says it.

"I don't, you know, but you need sleep."

"Sleep can wait," Mark's voice is still husky as he talks.

"Why are we whispering anyway?" Jack asks.

"I don't know, you spoke first," Mark smiles. He turns Jack away from the coffee, to face him. "What was the dream about?" he asks.

"I don't remember," Jack says softly.

Under his breath, Mark says, "Liar," as he pulls Jack towards him into a hug, chaste and protective, and pushes a kiss to the Irishman's forehead. He feels something warm soak into his shirt, and realises Jack is crying. Holding him there, Mark combs Jack's hair with his fingers, and stays quiet. Eventually Jack pushes Mark away and rubs his eyes.

"Sorry," is all he says.

"Don't be," Mark insists.

"I hate this house."

"I know."

Mark sighs quietly at the monotonous repetition that the last two weeks have been, since they moved to this house. Every night Jack has nightmares, and every night Mark wakes up to comfort him and send him back to sleep. Mark knows Jack hates this place, hates bothering Mark, but it's only temporary. Soon, they'll have moved out of this tombstone and be living together, like they'd hoped to do.

"Soon," Mark breathes, and Jack knows exactly what he's talking about.

"How soon?" He asks, knowing the answer as well.

"Soon enough."

"I'm going to bed."

Mark follows Jack up the stairs, to the room they're sharing. Two single beds lie pushed together in the centre of the room, because the only double bed in the house is one Jack never wants to touch, the one his parents used to sleep in.

Jack lies down on one side of the bed, and Mark on the other. Their hands clasp in the centre, and Mark rolls to face Jack.

"I want to visit them tomorrow," Jack says. Mark's surprised, but it was going to happen eventually.

"Are you sure?" He asks, because if Jack isn't ready, it will only go badly.

"Yeah."

"Okay. Do you want to bring flowers?"

"I think so. Can you get them?"

"Sure."

"Thanks, Mark."

"Any time, Sean."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Mark squeezes Jack's hand affectionately, before they close their eyes and drift back to sleep.


End file.
